Resistance, Broken

by nevermind

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:female #dom:male #f/f #f/m #pov:bottom #sub:female #corruption #resistant_subject #serial_recruitment

A freedom fighter finds herself overwhelmed and captured by a criminal cartel as she tries to buy her comrades time to escape.

This story contains brief descriptions of physical violence and death. The nature of the mind control is less violent, but matches the tone. Proceed with caution. This is not for romantics.

The Dark Triad is a cancer that is kills nations, organizations and people. A powerful criminal cartel, brazenly acting in the open; murdering, extorting, and robbing—without regard for human life. Law enforcement has failed to stop this threat; they have been undermined, bought off, or are otherwise powerless to contain this malignant growth. As a consequence, a New Resistance is formed by those willing and capable to stand up to this threat. People of all nations, of all creeds, willing to fight for the basic human right to dignity and freedom from oppression. We operate outside the law, defying governments and borders, and we accept the consequences. Once the Dark Triad is defeated, we will gladly face judgment. Until then, we fight fire with fire. We are your neighbors, your congressmen, your teachers, your friends. We seek neither glory, nor recognition, nor reward. We fight because we know that is our duty to fight. We fight for you. We fight because it is right and just, and we will fight until the Dark Triad has been brought to justice.

—from the Manifesto of the New Resistance, published anonymously

The boarding alarm kept blaring impotently as Artemis was manhandled through the steel corridors of the Matangi, up to the bridge. The blinking red lights danced over Artemis as she walked with bowed head, each of her shoulders held firmly by a faceless member of the Dark Triad. She looked down at her clenched fists, and it was hard to see the blood on her skin in the flashing crimson twilight.

It wasn’t her own blood, of course. She had killed many of the Triad’s henchmen before they had been able to overwhelm her, punching in windpipes and breaking noses when her bullets had run out.

She knew what this meant. She knew why they had taken her alive.

“You’ll never find them!” she hissed.

”Shut up, whore,” growled the black-clad brute that seemed to be in charge of this particular handful of Triad foot soldiers. He was wiry and muscular. Built like a performance climber; not a gram of excess body mass. Above the corner of his left eye was a nasty cut that Artemis had given him five minutes ago. He looked properly pissed off.

”What’re you going to do, you worthless piece of shit? Bleed on me some more?” Artemis spat, and was immediately rewarded with a punch in the gut. She groaned.

”Is that all you got, you pathetic fuck? How about your goons let me go and you have a real go at me? Maybe this time you can beat the woman without needing help.”

The man raised his hand in command, and everyone stopped. He turned around and got right into her face, fire in his eyes. He looked ready to strike, tendons flexing and tensing in his neck. Then he relaxed.

“Cute,” the thug said with a crooked smile, “trynna make me angry, are ya? Trynna take the easy way out? Won’t work. Ya gonna get ya brain fucked propa.”

“Like they did with you?” Artemis said, trying to channel her fear into a façade of bravado. “Oh no, wait… there’s no brain there to be washed… and you don’t like washing anyway, judging from the smell.”

He raised his hand, and Artemis tensed. But he only took her by the chin, almost gently. It was sickening.

“You gon’be our fucktoy, pretty bitch. During the downtime. When we’re not makin’ ya hunt an’ kill yer friends.”

“You’ll never make me one of yours.” She said, and spat in his face.

With a violent jerk, she could feel his hand close around her throat. His face was a grimace of rage, and the pain in her neck was immediate and red-hot as he closed his fingers around her with vice-like strength. She breathed out, breath rasping and

heart pounding. Suddenly, fear flooded her with the sharp, cold certainty of death. She had no air, and the pain was throbbing and stinging and—

He let her go, and she took a deep, instinctive breath. It was life and it was poison. There were tears in her eyes.

The grunt had his finger raised, wagging it in the air. He was tutting.

“I like yer style, cunt,” he said as he wiped the spit off his face. “Almost had me. Almost. But ya won’t get away that easy. Come on now.”

He turned around and walked on, and Artemis was shoved forward to follow him.

Olympia took heavy, ragged breaths as she rested her forehead against the cold steel floor. Beneath her, the ship was gently tilting and bobbing. She felt like she might throw up. She clenched her fists in frustration. She sobbed.

She had been so stupid. So goddamn stupid. Why hadn’t she listened? She had no idea what she was doing! She should be on that Helicopter. But she just had to be a hero, didn’t she? And now she was hiding under a bed like a five-year-old, because she’d screwed up so badly. How could she have thought she could do this? Her job was building communication infrastructure for the Resistance and fixing broken electronics. She wasn’t a fighter. She hadn’t fired a gun in years.

”You didn’t even have a fucking plan, you idiot,” she whispered to herself. She had acted on pure emotion, and now she was fucked because of it. The Matangi was 200 feet long, had four decks, was currently being boarded by armed men trying to kill them, and she had no idea where Artemis was.

She swallowed. She hadn’t heard any footsteps in a couple if minutes, and the gunshots had died down even before that. Carefully, she crawled out from under the bed. It was Regina Schmidt’s cabin. Regina had escaped safely, along with most of the rest of their resistance cell, while Olympia was still on the ship.

Like a fucking idiot.

The door to the bridge opened, and Artemis took in a sharp breath of panic when she saw who was waiting for her.

Oh fuck.

They weren’t even going to take her somewhere else. She was here! Medusa was here!

Before her stood Maria De Santis, better known as her alias Medusa, the head of the Dark Triad. She was wearing an elegant black cocktail dress that looked spectacularly out of place between the turtlenecks and combat gear of the thugs and soldiers under her command. Her blonde hair looked like she had just gotten out of a stylist’s chair.

“Ah, there you are,” she said, her voice impatient “Finally!”

She looked at the brute.

”Jesus, MacArthur! Did she do that to you?”

“Yup, Ma’am,” said the thug, “she’s a fighta, that one.”

Medusa smiled. “Like I warned you.”

The woman turned to Artemis. “You’ve been quite the nuisance, Miss Andreou. You’ve killed some of my better men over the past months, and you’ll be glad to hear that your friends-in-arms managed to escape, thanks to your little diversion.”

Artemis recoiled and twisted in her captor's grips as a simmering fear began to burn at the back of her throat. “No. I’ll never—“

“Quiet!” Medusa said, and the word slammed into Artemis like an oncoming train. Medusa’s voice had changed and become something different, something unnatural, and the words caught in Artemis’s throat; suddenly, she could no longer speak. It was as if the part of her that knew how to work her mouth had been shut off. And in this moment Artemis knew that every rumor, every unbelievable and far-fetched report had been true, and the floor seemed to fall away beneath her as fear gripped her; Medusa had actual, supernatural powers. 

Artemis’s heart burst into a frantic staccato, her thoughts racing at light speed. Oh God, no! This was happening even quicker than she had feared. She had thought that even if the rumors were true, she would have had more time. She hadn’t even had a moment to brace herself or—

“Listen!” Medusa commanded, and her voice seemed to boom and drone like close thunder, loud enough to send vibrations through Artemis’s body. It seemed to shake her as it gripped her with deadly, irresistible force. Artemis found herself listening like she had never listened before, ready to hear every smack of Medusa’s tongue, every minute quake in her breath, every facet of meaning and tone and context. She had to. She had to take it all in. Everything Medusa said. Even if fear still gripped her like cold chains around her chest. She had to listen. Even if she still wanted to flee, fight, struggle. Even if every word was poison. Oh God. Please, no! This was the worst thing that could—

“Open yourself!” The command flooded her and her mind tumbled and expanded with an indescribable feeling of disorienting levity and vastness. And while her mind expanded, the world around her narrowed until there was only her and the all-encompassing, towering presence of Medusa, pressing down on her, pushing into her, entering her. She could feel her in her mind now, and she knew she was utterly unable to stop any of it from happening. She was open to it. She was open to all of it. Anything her supernatural powers did to her, she would let happen. She knew it with a fatal finality. She was falling to her death, seeing the ground rush towards her in the final moment before the inevitable. No! No! This can't be happening! Please!

Artemis had to watch helplessly with her mind screaming as Medusa stepped up to her. She felt as big as a mountain, as big as the ocean, as big as the sky. She was inescapable. She was incomprehensible. Terrified, Artemis had to watch Medusa raise her hand and touch her on the forehead. She had to stay still as Medusa breached into her, and with a last terrified mental scream, everything ended.

The two women stood there, motionless, for a few seconds. Then Medusa drew back her hand.

Artemis straightened. 

Her face was expressionless. Her eyes had lost any hint of fear or surprise. All of that was gone from inside of her. There was only one thing there now, and it was perfectly simple.

She looked at her masters.

“I am yours,” she said matter-of-factly. “I am ready to serve and obey. Hail the Dark Triad.” 

“Told ya,” said MacArthur, and Artemis nodded with an almost imperceptible smile. Her master was right. She was everything he had said she’d be. So she went right on to act on it.

“The escape party is bound for a safe house just outside Matthew Town. They’ll recuperate for a day at most, then move to a secondary location. They will anticipate the possibility of me becoming the Triad’s servant.” 

It felt good to betray them. She felt nothing for them anymore. And aside from the thrill of obeying her new masters, she really felt nothing at all. There was a new coldness inside her that owned her, and the only thing that cut through it was the selfish, relentless need to serve. It was all she craved. All she wanted. The only thing that gave her joy. To be a slave. A servant of the Dark Triad. Obedient and unquestioning. Forever. 

Medusa nodded, and MacArthur passed the information on over radio.

“Shall I turn off the alarm and restore control to the ship systems?” Artemis asked, ready to please and serve and eager to betray everything she had once been.

“Yes, do that,” Medusa said, and Artemis went to the officer’s station and logged herself in. She disabled the alarm and lifted to command lock.

“She’s yours,” she said as the lights switched from flashing red to calm white and the incessant blaring of the claxons cut off. The silence was a relief and let her appreciate her own complete calmness. She scanned the security cameras, again trying to serve Medusa and the Triad by being alert and making sure that there were no surprises. The people she used to call friends were resourceful. They might have sabotaged the ship. She knew that she would have if she’d had the chance.

She saw the bodies of Dawson, Schumann and Cortéz. She was glad they were dead. Something inside her itched, something that she was glad to recognize as her need to kill. She was Triad now and she would eliminate everything and everyone that stood in their way. Yes. She would have enjoyed being the one who did it. She lingered on the image of the corpses of her enemies a moment longer before cycling further. Everything seemed deserted. Engine room. Mess. Cargo. When she switched to the crew quarters feed however, she noticed a movement, and her pulse spiked.

”We have a straggler on deck 3, starboard bow,” she said urgently, and all attention turned to her. She squinted. “It’s…”

Her breath caught as something inside her seemed to snap smoothly into place. 

She remembered her. Of course, she remembered her. She had told her to leave. She had begged her through tears to go with the rest. She had shouted at her to leave her and get to safety.

The sudden memory woke no emotion in Artemis. There was nothing in her to be woken. She merely remembered her own distress with detached distaste, unable and unwilling to sympathize with her past self. She felt nothing but contempt for the young woman on deck 3. Her voice was utterly unburdened as she continued:

“It’s my sister, Olympia. She’s armed and headed for the bridge. Get ready to ambush her.”

Her masters did not question her command. They knew that she served them absolutely. They knew that she was theirs. Devoted. Unquestioningly loyal. Serving the Dark Triad with all of her being. They immediately scattered and took positions around corners and behind consoles. 

Artemis looked to Medusa. “Capture or kill?”

Medusa seemed to consider it for a moment. Artemis didn’t care either way. She only knew that those were the options.

“What the hell, why not. Capture!”

Everyone spread out. Two black-clad men escorted Medusa to the ready room and closed the door half-way as Artemis went to the navigator’s workstation, where she knew she could be seen through the open bridge door. She had her back turned toward the door. She plotted a course to Inagua to give herself a reason to be there, taking her time, waiting for her sister to walk into the Traid's trap.

As she waited and there wasn’t any immediate command to obey anymore, Artemis noticed a distant sense of disappointment within her. The dull throb in her mind that told her to kill for the Triad tugged at her, and she imagined how good it would have felt to snuff out Olympia. Killing her would have been as easy as swatting a fly. But it would also have been meaningful, simply because it would have been so easy. 

After all, the fact that the young woman was her sister had once meant so much to Artemis. She had cared about her. Loved her. She had loved her so much. Olympia had been the one person she had truly, deeply cared about even when she had closed herself off from the rest of the world. Even when she had grown callous and hard and cold from all the death and trauma she had experienced fighting the Triad, she had never stopped caring for her sister. She had stayed on this ship, expecting to die to protect the one person she truly cared for.

But she hadn't died. She had been turned loyal and eager to serve.

She thought of Olympia, and her sister was nothing more than one more resitance bitch that needed to be captured and enslaved. The only thing special about her was how well Artemis could prove on her that she served without question. It was going to feel so good. Even better that betraying those that had fled. Even better than handing over the ship. Maybe even better than giving away her self.

She waited patiently, ready to show her masters that she was truly theirs.

“Hands up!!!” Olympia’s voice finally came from behind her, and Artemis complied.

“What are you doing here?!” she said, her voice thick with pretend shock and concern. She felt nothing but contempt. As she slowly turned around, she saw her sister standing in the doorway, two Triad commandos to either side of her, just out of her field of vision, batons and tazers raised. She recognized MacArthur as the one on the close right. She knew that he would be the first to strike. He was watching Artemis, eyebrows raised, ready for her signal. The others hidden around the room would have guns ready in case anything went wrong.

Olympia wasn’t lowering her gun. It was trained straight at Artemis’s center of mass. Artemis kept her eyes carefully on her. Once she looked away, Olympia would know she wasn’t alone.

“What happened?” she asked, lips tight. She was trying hard to stay in control of her panic and fear. Artemis could tell. “Where are they?!”

“They left and went after the Helo. The damn Helo you should be on,” Artemis replied, faking confusion and disbelief.

“What?! How did the Triad know where they were going?”

“I don’t know. Can you lower the gun, please?”

Olympia’s hand started to sink, but then, her face turned sour and she snapped back into her stance, finger on trigger.

”Oly, what the fuck?!”

“They got you, didn’t they?! You told them. You’re Triad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Artemis shouted.

“It’s true, isn’t it? Medusa controls you. I can see it. It’s in your eyes.”


“You’re not Artemis,” Olympia said bitterly, “you’re not my sister,” and Artemis knew that Olympia was no longer speaking to her, but to herself. She was trying to talk herself into pulling the trigger.

Artemis glanced over to MacArthur, and both he and her sister noticed it at the same time. Her master acted instantly. Olympia hesitated for less than a blink of and then—

Everything exploded into pain. The Triad soldiers had pulled the ear protection from Artemis when they had captured her, so the gunshot was too loud to register as noise. Stinging pain filled her head and she recoiled in agony, instinctively closing her eyes and covering her ears.

A second later, the shock turned into worry. Was she hurt? She couldn't die! She had to serve! Artemis looked down at her body, seeing no blood. She looked around. The bridge was again filled with a swarm of Triad soldiers. Behind Artemis, the screen of the navigation console was a glitchy rainbow surrounding a gaping bullet-hole. The shot must have missed her by less than a foot. Good. She was uninjured, and could continue to serve. The pain had been nothing but the ear-splitting noise of the gunshot.

Meanwhile, her sister was being wrestled to the ground, her gun lying on the deck four feet away from her. Artemis scoffed. Pathetic. MacArthur pulled out a zip-tie and bound Olympia’s hands behind her back.

“NO! FUCK YOU!” Olympia screamed, “AAARGH!!!”

But the Triad men were too much for her, and the woman that would soon own her strode confidently towards Olympia. Artemis stepped closer, too. She wanted to watch, and she knew that Medusa would waste no time making speeches, and no one here was interested in giving Olympia any last words.

Her sister’s eyes fixed hers, full of infinite sadness and anger all at once. Artemis felt nothing for her. She felt no guilt, no compassion. This was an enemy. Whether killed or converted, she had to be ended. Artemis ultimately didn’t care which way. She met Olympia’s stare, coldly and with conviction, knowing that - whatever was about to happen- she would enjoy this a lot. This was the Dark Triad, winning. Artemis lived for this. She smiled at her, knowing that it would hurt Olympia to see it.

“You evil bitch!” Olympia screamed at her. “Why?! WHY?!”

“Listen!” Medusa commanded, and Olympia’s gaze was drawn off Artemis instantly as all of her focus turned to Medusa. It was like watching a fish get caught. Artemis smiled as her sister’s eyes widened in shock, pupils dilating unnaturally as Medusa’s power took hold of her.

“No… please… don’t…”

“Quiet,” Medusa continued, and whatever final words Olympia had meant to say died in her throat. She jerked, trying to free herself, but it was no use. They had her. Her eyes were crazy with fear and her half-open mouth quivered. A tear rolled down her cheek. She knew what was about to happen to her. She had seen Artemis completely loyal and controlled, and she knew that she would meet the same fate; the terror of death was written in her face. Artemis shivered with the joy of of seeing her master's enemy suffer, her insides itching to see Olypia erased.

“Open yourself,” Medusa spoke, and Olympia’s face immediately went smooth and slack as the raw power of the words pried her mind apart at the seams. Her mouth fell open, and her eyelids drooped to half-mast. Yes. She was already helpless and broken. Without another moment of consideration or hesitation, Medusa reached out, touched her forehead, and ended her completely.

With held breath, Artemis watched Medusa take the last of her sister and make her Triad. Olympia’s face twitched, and her pupils rolled up behind fluttering eyelids as Medusa raped her mind. Her body trembled, and she drew sharp irregular breaths as something deep in her fought, struggled, and died. And then, after a short moment, it was over.

Olympia relaxed, straightened, and opened her eyes. She smiled coldly.

“Hail the Dark Triad,” she said, her voice hard and even, “I am yours.” 

Olympia stared at the woman she now served. Her slender body was taut with tight-wound readiness to do what she was told as her fellow Triad agents cut her loose again. As they freed her arms, Olympia glanced into Artemis’s eyes, and Artemis understood how Olympia had been able to tell that Artemis had been enslaved.

Behind her sister’s eyes, a light had gone out and been replaced with something different. Something harder, simpler. Her sister had been subjugated and diminished. A quiet satisfaction managed to cut through the iron calmness that Artemis kept in her heart and she allowed herself to enjoy the pleasure of it. Yes. Olympia was a servant of the Triad now. She was their tool. Unquestioning, fanatic, and obedient. There was nothing left of the girl she had been.


The Triad’s newest slave looked at Artemis, this time maintaining eye contact. Olympia’s expression was hard, passionless, perfectly calm. A pleasant chill went through Artemis’s spine as she gazed deeply into the cold void where her sister used to be.

“Did you already tell them about the safe house?” Olympia asked her.

“Of course.” Artemis replied harshly, torn between appreciating Olympia’s need to immediately betray the Resistance and being annoyed by the implication that Artemis wouldn’t have already done exactly that. 

“Well done,” Olympia said simply. There was no ego in it. She was merely satisfied to know that their owners had been told everything they needed to know.

”Are we done ‘ere, boss?” MacArthur cut in.

“Artemis?” Medusa demanded, “Olympia? Anything else or anyone else we can take or use?”

“We wiped the hard drives the moment you boarded us,” Artemis volunteered, shrugging apologetically. “Nothing else of value on board. Right, Oly?”

“Yeah, just us,” her sister replied with a thin smile. “The rest of the crew is either dead or part of the escape party. Are we going after them?”

“No,” said Medusa, “We have men on the island, they’re moving out as we speak.”

Olympia and Artemis started talking at the same time, and there was a moment of stuttering before Artemis let her sister be the one to continue:

“Our radio frequency is 417.8 and the encryption key is 7-5-kilo-mike-papa-hotel.”

MacArthur got on the radio and relayed the information. They gave their masters everything: Addresses, code phrases, dead drops, cell phone numbers. Everything they could remember. What Artemis was fuzzy on, Olympia helped her with, and vice-versa. 

“Very good,” Medusa said when they had given away everything that they knew. She gave instructions to her men, and everyone but MacArthur filed out to secure the perimeter and place charges on the inner hull below deck. 

Medusa turned back to the women she had enslaved.

“Very good indeed. Do you like what I made you?”

“Yes!” - ”Of course.” they said at the same time. 

“I serve. Hail the Dark Triad. I am loyal and obedient. I am yours,” Artemis said. “Hail the Dark Triad,” her sister repeated “I serve and obey.”. Together they stood at attention, ready to follow, ready to obey, ready to be used. Medusa looked quite satisfied, which was everything Artemis and Olympia lived for. 

“Why don’t we have a chat while the men finish up?” she said and gestured towards the ready room. Artemis and Olympia led the way as commanded, and each took a seat at the briefing table when told to. Medusa And MacArthur sat down across from them.

Medusa was smiling the confident smile of someone who had gotten exactly what they wanted. She mustered Artemis and Olympia for a long moment. Finally, she leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs, and leaned over to MacArthur. She laid her elbow on his shoulder.

“So… Regis,” she said with a smile. 


“I’ll have to commend you for your good work. Which one of them do you want?”

“Te fuck or te command?”

She gently shoved him. “You know what I’m talking about Regis,” she said with a chuckle. “You’ll command both, and fuck both. I mean which one do you want right now? I’ll have the other.”

“Oh, yeah, right… I was sure I’d want the fightin’ one… but ‘er sista is even prettia than ‘er.”

“I’m yours to have,” Olympia said readily, sitting up straighter.

“Nah, hold on,” he said raising his hands. “I still want te fuck yer sister first.”  

Olympia tilted her head. “Of course.” she said. It didn’t matter. Both of them were just as glad to serve themselves as they were glad to see the other serve.

“Artemis, right?” 

“Yes.” Artemis said, smiling for him. Below the table, she was already spreading her legs for her master.

“Ye rememba what I said te ya?”

“Of course,” she replied. She leaned forward, resting her lower arms on the table. “You said I was going to be your fuck toy when I’m not busy killing in your command.” She smiled as she said it.

“Where we at?” MacArthur asked.

“I. Am. Exactly. There,” Artemis answered. She hadn’t killed for the Triad yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Instead, she had betrayed her sister into Medusa’s thrall -- and she knew that she would have found that even worse than killing her, once. She didn’t, anymore. Now, it felt good to see Olympia eagerly serving the Triad.

“My crew cabin is one deck below,” she offered. “You could fuck me where I used to sleep when I was Resistance. Or we could do it right here on the table, with my owner and sister watching. Not as comfortable, though. Pros and cons.”

Regis laughed. He turned to Medusa, who was smiling broadly.

“Ye done fucked ‘er up good, Maria.”

“You’re welcome.”

”Now, don’t act like yer doin’ it for me, ya ol’ pervert. I know exactly how twisted y’are”, Macarthur chuckled. “And I’m not judgin’ ya, mind. Me and me men are more than happy to benefit from yer ubiquitous acquisitions.”

“That are some awfully big words, Regis.. are you feeling alright?” Medusa said with a smirk, turning to her newly made slaves. “…anyway. He’s right, of course. So why don’t you get out of your clothes so we can look at you.”

Artemis and Olympia sprung to their feet and without another moment of hesitation stripped down to nothing. Artemis was quicker than Olympia, and while her sister was still busy unhooking her bra, Artemis knelt down and pulled down her sister’s dark grey panties, exposing Olympia’s stubbly cunt. She got to her feet again just as Olympia’s bra came off. Olympia tossed it on the deck carelessly. Artemis felt her breasts hanging heavily in the warm air, saw her sister’s sweating, naked body. She smiled. They were completely naked before their masters, and it turned her on hard.

“I’m yours,” Artemis said, and Olympia echoed her.

“Turn around and show us your assholes,” Medusa commanded.

They both spun and leaned forward with spread legs, completely free from shame and inhibition. Artemis could feel the gazes between her legs, and she arched her back, pushing her ass higher and further back. She braced herself against the seat of the chair in front of her and looked to her left into the cold, obedient eyes of Olympia, who was in the same shameless pose that she was in. Her breasts hung below her, swaying softly every time she shifted her weight. She had a good body. Slim. Young. Pretty. Artemis appreciated the pleasing sex object that she had been turned into. Her big eyes and girlish looks made her very fuckable.

“Stand up and make out,” came the voice of her owner behind them, and they were instantly back on their feet. Artemis served and obeyed and lived to please those that owned her. Without another thought, she pressed her lips against Olympia’s, parting, sucking, wet and eager. Olympia’s tongue was immediately pushing into the gap between her own lips. She had been ready and waiting. Artemis sucked on her tongue, let it fill her, felt it inside her mouth. She was obeying. She was serving.

Her hand found Olympia’s ass. She held on tightly, and her fingers crawled down the soft curve of her cheeks and down the crack as Olympia’s tongue danced around her mouth, hot and wet. Olympia’s arms were wrapped around her like coiling serpents, strong and unrelenting and hungry. She felt the hardness of her nipples push against her own tits, and felt them erect and aching as well. She was getting turned on. She was getting horny, and she felt herself moisten as her pussy throbbed with the arousal of what she was doing. She wanted to fuck. She wanted to cum. Cum in the name of her obedience. Cum for the Triad.

Since the moment she had been turned into the Triad’s slave she had known that she was her master's willing toy and that her body now belonged to those that she served. But now that it was actually happening, and desire and knowledge turned into reality, she found it so much better than she could have ever imagined it. 

“Stop,” Medusa commanded, and they immediately separated and stood at attention, their nipples erect and their cunts glistening with arousal. They waited patiently as MacArthur and Medusa devoured their naked bodies with their eyes. They weren’t thoughtless, but proudly and utterly obedient. Proud to be slaves. Proud to be exposed. Proud to have been subjugated and bent into unquestioning service.

“Olympia?” Medusa said after a moment.


“You’ll take me to your quarters and lick my cunt until I come.”

Olympia smiled and obeyed. Naked, she led the way as Medusa followed her. Artemis watched her sister leave and she felt nothing. Everything was as it was supposed to be. Olympia was a slave, and her owner was about to use her. It was Olympia’s purpose to be used. It was the only thing gave her value. She was a the Triad's slave. It gave Artemis a deep, throbbing, feeling of satisfaction.

With Medusa gone, Artemis had to decide herself how best to act in order to serve her. MacArthur might be her master, too -- but nothing was more important than pleasing Medusa, the one who had enslaved her. She would kill him in a heartbeat if it served the Triad. But that eventuality was far away right now. So much further away than what she would do to him instead. She looked at him. He was still looking at the door, seemingly lost in thought. He looked surprisingly handsome when he wasn’t wearing his aggressive scowl. Not that his looks mattered.

“MacArthur?” she asked him. 


”I’m right here. Are you going to fuck me, or not? I’m yours. Ready and eager.” 

MacArthur smiled. 

“So ye are.”

He looked her up and down hungrily, and Artemis waited patiently as she felt his eyes on her tits, between her legs. In truth, she enjoyed it. She was the object of his desire and she was ready to be used. It felt right. 

“How does it feel, bein’ less than a person?” MacArthur sneered.

“Great,” Artemis said, smiling thinly. “Who needs all that super-ego? Medusa cut out our conscience, and now we just want what we’re told. No more doubts, no more fear, no more inhibitions. Nothing to keep us from serving. So much simpler. So much easier.” 

“So what yer sayin’ is, ye’re simple and easy?”

Artemis chuckled. “What I’m saying is that all of my considerable resourcefulness and intelligence has been sharpened and pointed in the direction that serves the Triad,” she said. “Sure, you can override me and command me. Medusa broke me that way. In the end I’m nothing but the Triad’s slave. I would obey, blindly, thoughtlessly, and I would like it. But you don’t need to.”

She looked him in the eyes to make him see how she meant it. “I want the Dark Triad to win. Kill our enemies. Serve our rank with my body and mind and soul. Betray my former friends. …and yes, I want you to fuck me and use me.”

MacArthur didn’t say anything. He was only looking, only leering at her. 

“I don’t mind all this talking,” Artemis said, approaching him on her tiptoes. “Really, I don’t. It’s nice to hear myself say all of this out loud. It's making me fucking wet. But the waiting is making me insane. And don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.”

She leaned forward, supporting herself with her hands on his thighs, conscious of how invitingly her breasts swung before him. 

“An’ what would that be?” MacArthur asked.

“You’re making me beg for it. You want me to fuck you. And you don’t want to tell me to. You want me to do it of my own free will.”

She bit her lip.

”I’m going to fuck you now”, she said with the finality of Medusa’s touch as she undid his belt. “Because I want to. Because I want to betray everything I used to be. Becauase I want to serve. Because I want to be used. Because it feels so fucking great to give my body.”

She got onto her knees between his legs and pulled down his pants. He was rock hard. She looked at his dick and smiled hungrily. Without hesitation, she licked the length of it and took it in her mouth, closing her lips around it and swallowing it, sucking it, stroking it with her tongue. MacArthur moaned and she felt him twitch inside her. She continued pleasuring him for a minute, then pulled back with a slurp.

“Get up” she said firmly.

MacArthur’s eyes were wild with arousal. He stood up out of the chair. Artemis bent over the table and presented her ass for him.

“Fuck me,” she said, and MacArthur slapped her on the ass, hard. A pleasant tingle went up Artemis’s spine. She was ready to take him. She wanted this so much.

“No, turn around. Get on the table,” MacArthur said. “I want to see yer face.”

Artemis obeyed. She straddled the table, laid on her back with her ass on the edge, and spread her legs wide. Her cunt was screaming for it.

”Nothin’ but an eager cunt,” MacArthur said, and pushed into her. She spread around him and enveloped him as he filled her, and Artemis moaned in pleasure. He began fucking her in slow, measured strokes. She looked into his eyes.

“Yes!” she moaned. “Take me, master!”

“Yeah! Where’s yer fight now, bitch?!” he said as he thrust into her. “How do you like this?!”

She reached up around his waist and stopped him. Her expression was deadly serious. She took his hand.

“That bitch is gone,” she said as she looked up at him. “I am not her. There is exactly one thing I can’t obey you with, and it’s ever being like her again.” His cock strained against the inside of her cunt. It made her so hot. She savored the words as she continued in a low voice.

“I am the willing servant of the Dark Triad. I want this. I want to fuck you. I want to serve.” She felt the pleasant throbbing of his dick with every word, and she strained her muscles around him in response to him as she spoke. “I’ll come for you. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you. But I can’t be your victim. You can’t abuse me or humiliate me anymore, because I’ll always want it.” 

She squeezed his hand, and MacArthur swallowed, licking dry lips. He said nothing, but this time it didn’t feel calculated at all. Before he could gather his wits, she reached around him and pulled him even deeper into herself. She let out a small gasp as he instinctively started thrusting again.  

“You’ll… Ohhh… you’ll have to make do with… the Artemis that is a fanatical, ohhh… obedient servant… of everything she used to hate,” she moaned as he pushed his cock into her. Her expression was wild and unapologetic. “Sorry.” 

MacArthur smiled like a madman. Her master's eyes were wide as he pumped into her hard, with a short pause before every new thrust. Every time he pulled back, he almost slipped out of her before he penetrated her again with the full length of his cock.

“Good ter know,” he said. “I’ll… come back ter ya on that but—oohh… fuck…”

Suddenly, he groaned and spurted into her, shivering and gasping as he came. He moaned deeply. Artemis smiled, savoring the sensation of it. The warmth of his cum filled her and she felt the dark twisted joy of what she had become solidify in a moment of sizzling clarity. In that moment, it felt so incredibly surreal. She looked down her naked body to the place between her legs where MacArthur’s cock penetrated her. The sweaty stubble of her mons seemed to bulge with him inside her.

She wanted this. With all of her being. She was Triad. She served, and this was her, serving. It felt so good. Her hand wandered down her body and slipped into the narrow gap between herself and the man she served. She found her hungry clit and began stroking.

“Stay inside me, master” she commanded, almost surprising herself. After all, she was his toy, and he could decide anytime that he was done using her. She wouldn’t mind. No, she would gladly do what she was told. But even if in the end she was nothing but a mind-fucked slave, there was also nothing right now that stopped her from asking for the things she wanted. 

“I want to come with you inside me,” she said.

MacArthur tilted his head with a crooked grin. He slipped out of her.

“Why don’t ye ask nicely, cunt?”

”Please,” Artemis begged. “I want your cock. Please!”

“I guess ye’re lucky that I want to see ya cum for me, bitch“ he said, and Artemis laughed in relief, then moaned as a wave of pleasure shot through her when he pushed back in. He gasped and grimaced. He was still painfully sensitive. But he was inside her, very slowly pushing in and out, and it was everything that she wanted right now. She felt his cum sliding between his dick and her cunt as she pushed and stroked hard against her clit. It felt amazing.

And as she fucked herself with MacArthur inside her, the fresh memories replayed themselves in her mind. Of her sister, becoming a soldier of the Triad. Of the feeling of seeing her lose. Of looking into her eyes and seeing not her sister’s soul, but only the cold, unquestioning loyalty to the people that now owned her. And in every memory, she saw herself. She saw that her own eyes had the same beautiful emptiness behind them. She saw herself as the cold-hearted, obedient tool that would forever be serving the Dark Triad, killing, fucking, obeying without question or remorse. It was so good. Right now, there were armed men hunting down the people she had called friends. She felt nothing for them. They were her enemies. She wanted them dead. Right now, her sister was fucking the woman that had ordered those men and women be killed. The thought turned Artemis on. It was right for Olympia to be used like that, and she knew that Olympia wanted it. Just like Artemis wanted it. Because right now, she felt inside of her the turgid cock of the man that had overpowered her and brought her here against her will, stroking against her insides, his cum starting to leak from her hot, wet snatch as she fingered herself harder and harder and faster and faster. Yes! Yes! Yes!!!

With a moan, her pleasure broke the plateau in a sudden spike of need and sex, and she pushed against the roiling pleasure, riding it as it grew and expanded and exploded and enveloped her and she was coming from the pleasure and she was coming from the thoughts and she was coming from the cock and the debasement and she was a fucktoy and a slave and Dark Triad and she had betrayed her sister and her friends and she was coming she was coming she was—

Olympia distantly heard her sister’s scream from upstairs as she knelt on the floor of her quarters. She was deeply relaxed. Medusa was in her mind, sifting, weaving, discarding. She was quite aware. There was no part of her left that resisted. Where Medusa had cut through her mind like a jungle before, she now strolled through it like a vast garden, pruning the thoughts and ideas that she had not tended to earlier.

Medusa grunted and pulled back her hand from Olympia’s forehead.

“Ughh… that’ll have to do for today. I’m drained.”

Olympia blinked, looking inside her mind to get a feel for how she was different now.

“I’m still me,” she said. “I thought that you might erase all my memories.”

Medusa waved her hand dismissively as she sat back down on Olymia’s bed, avoiding the wet spot they had left earlier. 

”I only do that with deserters and dissenters. To make an example.” 

“Dissenters?” Olympia asked, confused.

“I can’t enslave an army. My powers are limited. Turning you and your sister was a lot. It will take me a few days before I’ll be able to fully subjugate anyone again. Which, of course, is something that you will never tell anyone.”

“Of course not!” Olympia said. “so… that means our men are going to just kill the escape party on Inagua?” 

“They’re doing it as we speak,” Medusa said. 

Olympia considered the thought for the barest of moments. All those people she’d known... Regina, Marcus, Amir, Petra, Brody, and all the others. They were dead.

Olympia shrugged. She felt nothing for them. “Too bad,” she said. “Brody would have made an excellent agent. I kind of fancied him. Would have been nice to get to fuck him.”

She looked at her Mistress, eyes widening with a sudden realization. “Oh my God! I guess I should be even more grateful that you used your power on me! Thank you! Thank you!”

Medusa scoffed, but with a smile. “Ha! If nothing else, you’ll make a good bed slave.”

“Thank you,” Olympia said demurely. She was glad to that her body was such a good toy, but…

“Don’t worry," Medusa said. "I know what you’re thinking. I know you want more. I put those thoughts there myself.” She beckoned her with a wave and Olympia crawled towards her. Medusa laid Olympia’s head on her lap and stroked her hair. “I know that you want to be our agent. To kill, to undermine. And you will. Of course you’ll get to serve the Triad with more than your body! Everything else would be a waste! There’s many ways we can use you, and I really can’t imagine you being a bad investment. You’ll be a capable agent, Olympia.”

”Thank you. Hail the Dark Triad,” she breathed. "I love you."

Medusa smiled, seemingly mostly to herself. She looked into Olympia’s eyes and Olympia felt the sudden spark of her presence crashing into her and—

It came like lightning out of a blue sky, and it was pure sex. Like an injection of a chemically pure substance, it hit her all at once and with a clarity and intensity she had never even imagined possible. Every last recess of her waking mind seemed to crystallize into the hidden, underlying quintessence of everything that made her get off. The very concept of arousal filled her and swallowed her. It was like tasting pure refined sugar after only ever knowing wild fruits. She came, harder than she ever had. Her whole body glowed and burned as the ecstasy enveloped her. Not her pussy, not her clit, her nipples, not the small of her back. Her mind made her come, and with it all of her body followed in its wake. 

She collapsed to the floor, twitching and convulsing in spasms of ecstasy. When the impossible pleasure finally ebbed and faded into a warm, pleasant glow, she didn’t even know if she had screamed or not. She must have.

“You’re welcome,” Medusa said. “I’m sure you’ll earn it over and over again in many different ways. But if you do turn out to be good for nothing except being a niece piece of ass, I’ll make sure you’ll want nothing else. Holding grudges is for enemies, not for people… slaves that live to serve you. Worst case, I can always sell you.”

“I’ll be a good agent,” she promised, relieved to know that she would serve no matter what. 

”I know you will be. Fetch me my dress. We should be ready to blow this ship up and leave. MacArthur should be done playing by now, as well.”

“Yes. I think I heard Artemis cum a couple of minutes ago,” Olympia said as she picked up the black dress from the floor.

“Good. I think I’ll let her pull the trigger on the detonator. That will put a nice bow on what she’s done today. Zipper, please. Thanks.”

Back on the bridge, Artemis and Olympia were handed spare black combat fatigues from the boarding skiff, which they put on readily. They would have gladly gone naked, but wearing the uniform of the Dark Triad was even better. 

“I think ya need ter go over that one again and rein in ‘er willfulness,” MacArthur said to Medusa, nodding in Artemis’s direction. “She’s a lot, that one.”

“I know exactly what I did,” Medusa said with a smile. “Why… can’t handle her, Regis?”

“Of course I can handle ‘er!”, MacArthur protested. “Tell ‘er!”

Artemis smiled. ”When he was done fucking me, I begged him for more,” she said. “I came so hard for him. It was the second best thing I ever felt. He’s such a great lover, and such a great listener. When he came inside of me, I—”

“Enough! Enough, stop! Enough! Thank ya!” he said, blushing and turning to grab a duffel bag of guns before leaving the bridge for the starboard deck.

Artemis looked at Medusa. She hadn’t really had a chance to consider the woman that owned her mind with everything that had happened. She felt at once an overwhelming awe and an incredible intimacy towards her. There was nothing in her mind that wasn’t there by that woman’s design. She was her God, and her closest confidante. She loved her, of course. She didn’t love MacArthur. She might not even like him. She just liked fucking him because it meant being a good servant to the Dark Triad.

“Well,” Artemis said, “Any chance of us learning what the deal is between you two?”

“He’s my first officer,” Medusa said dismissively and any and all curiosity in Artemis died instantly. Her owner handed both her and Olympia a black backpack each. Artemis’s was quite heavy, and her sister’s looked to be as well.

“We know you have redundant black box recorders, but we haven’t been able to find them. I don’t blame you for forgetting about them earlier. You were busy thinking about how to best betray your friends. Just arm these directly next to them and join us on the skiff. Red button, hold for three seconds.”

Artemis looked into the backpack and saw two broad strips of shaped charges connected two a radio detonator. There was also a radio which she took out and clipped to her belt. She zipped the bag closed again, ready to move. It had been a while since she had handled explosives, but it seemed straightforward enough. Everything was labeled.

“Understood,” she said, “It’ll take about five minutes.”

“Good,” Medusa said and went after MacArthur. Artemis and Olympia took the other exit below deck.

“You’ll have to show me how to do it,” Olympia said as they walked down the stairs. “I might get it wrong otherwise.”

Artemis looked at her. Olympia’s eyes looked as coldly focused and full of conviction as ever, but there was also a glimmer of something else, something strange. For a moment, she wanted to slap her for wasting her time. But she caught herself. It wasn’t Olympia’s fault that she didn’t know how to plant and arm explosives.

“Alright,” Artemis sighed. “We’ll stay together. This way.”

”I know.”

They walked down the length of the ship together. Artemis notified the rest of the Triad unit of their change of plans over the radio and got the okay to proceed.

“Thank you, by the way,” Olympia said after a moment of silence. Her tone was conversational. Cool. Artemis didn’t turn around to answer.

“We have to make sure the data is destroyed, or the London or Jakarta Division might recover it. It’s good that you told me when you weren’t sure how to do it. It’ll take longer, but we’re going to get it right.”

“No…. I mean… yes… thank you for that, too. But I meant to say… thank you for giving me to Medusa.”

“Medusa wanted you as her tool. I simply obeyed. If she had told me to, I would have killed you.”

“Good,” Olympia said, and Artemis heard the smile in her voice. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah. Me, too. It felt good to betray you, and it’s great to see you like this.”

”And it’s great to see you like this, too. You’re so fierce. So obedient. I see it in your eyes. You could kill me without feeling anything. I wish I was as far gone as you… but I still feel soft. I still feel weak.”

Artemis stopped and turned around. She looked her sister in the eyes. There was indeed something strange in them. Something soft. Something weak.

”Will you kill for the Dark Triad?”

”Of course.” Olympia said, and her eyes were immediately hard and cold.

“Will you obey without question and hesitation?”

“Of course!”

“Will you whore yourself and let yourself be used?”


Artemis felt relieved.

“Then there’s nothing you need to worry about,” she said. “You’re just as much Triad as MacArthur, Medusa, or me. Whatever weakness you may have, it doesn’t matter. The Dark Triad will use you for what you are, and you will be the best tool you can be.”

Olympia nodded, lips still tight, but looking more at ease.

“You know… I was always like this,” Artemis said, not without pride. “I was always more ruthless than you. More violent. Less empathetic. But I used to have morals and inhibitions. Medusa simply took those out of me when she turned me. But you were even weaker than that. You, she had to make like this.”

She smiled predatorily.

”And I’m glad she did. But it was good that it worked out this way. If you had been more like me when you pointed that gun at me, you wouldn’t have hesitated, and you wouldn’t have missed.”

She turned around.

“Medusa took that weakness out of you. Come on. We’re here.”

Artemis opened the door at the end of the corridor into a small machine shop, and they were greeted by the metallic stench of blood.

“Ha! I remember,” Olympia said when she saw the source of the smell. “Cortéz told me he would try to get the data off the ship. Looks like he didn’t make it far.”

They stepped over the dead body. 

“What a fucking idiot. I have no idea what his plan would have been if he even got the data on a drive. Swim to land?”

Artemis chuckled. She pulled back the small metal cupboard at the side of the room and yanked the data recorder from the hidden compartment in the wall behind it. She put it on the cupboard.

“Okay,” she said, opening her backpack. She pulled out the explosive charges.

”See this?” she said, and slammed the shaped charge on the cupboard, hard. It made a loud banging sound that reverberated between the narrow steel bulkheads. Olympia recoiled and shrieked instinctively. Artemis laughed at her.

“C4 shaped charges. Completely inert without a blasting cap.” 

She held it up. 

”This is the business end. It focuses the shockwave in one direction. Cuts through steel like butter.”

“Okay. Nice.” Olympia said.

“These have adhesives on them,” Artemis continued and pulled of the plastic strip. “Just like hanging up posters with double-side tape. Come on, you do it.”

Olympia stepped up and pressed the strip of explosive on the black box, leaving room for the second one, which Artemis was readying. When Artemis was about to hand it to her, she noticed movement behind her.

”GET DOWN!” she screamed, and pushed Artemis away from her.

The gunshot in the small metal room was the loudest thing that had ever happened. Pain. Noise. Spinning. She was disoriented. The whole world was a drone and her ears hurt so bad that she was seeing flashing lights behind her closed eyelids.

She felt herself screaming but couldn’t hear herself. Adrenaline filled her with a sudden burst, and she lost her up and down. She felt the floor hit her, and a moment later, somehow, she was already on her knees again. The world snapped back into orientation.

Cortéz was still reeling from the recoil. Usually he wouldn’t have. He was six feet five and all muscle. But he was obviously hurt, his bloody face contorted in pain and rage. His outstretched gun arm pointed straight at Olympia. 

Then it didn’t anymore. 

His head darted around, and the gun followed as Artemis threw herself at him. As the strong woman collided with the stronger, heavier, and seriously wounded man, they both screamed in pain. She seemed to come to a complete stop against him, but he folded over, and the gun dropped out of his hand.

Without even hesitating, his fist flew into Artemis’s stomach, and the air escaped her lungs in a wheezing cough. His other hand grabbed her from behind, and threw her to the ground. She hit the deck with a loud bang.

The gun had landed straight next to Olympia. Artemis lay on the floor, blood running from her nose. Cortez began to move. She looked at Olympia.  

“Olympia, take the—“

And again, the whole world exploded into blinding pain. Olympia felt the floor shake as Cortéz dropped. 

She opened her eyes. The man lay crumpled against the corner where the floor met the bulkhead, a large red hole in the center of his chest. Next to him on the floor, Artemis looked as pleased as she looked shocked.

“Did you really think you had to tell me to shoot him?!” Olympia said through gritted teeth, but she could hardly hear her herself speak over the painful ringing in her ears.


”DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD HESITATE ONE SECOND TO KILL HIM, YOU FUCKING CUNT?!” Olympia screamed at the top of her voice. White-hot rage burned inside her. How could that fucking bitch doubt her like that? Olympia served! She was Dark Triad! She was completely theirs!

Artemis laughed. At least, Olympia could see her laughing. The sound of it was lost to the painful ringing in her ears. For a moment she felt the impulse to shoot her for laughing at her like that, before she realized that Artemis was simply happy that she had killed Cortéz. Yes. Good. She was, too. She relaxed and took her radio. She tried not to yell too loudly. ”Triad, this is Olympia! We had some trouble down here, but we’re clear now! Please make sure everyone’s really dead next time, over!”

Something came in reply, but she couldn’t tell what.

”Unable to copy! Gun went off! Hearing gone! But we’re continuing as planned! See you in a bit! Hail the Dark Triad! Over and out!”   

She got up, and spat on Cortéz’s corpse. ”Hail the Dark Triad,” she sneered, then helped Artemis to her feet. Artemis was still grinning. It was strange to see her like this. 

”Well done!!!” Artemis shouted. “You killed for the Triad!!! I told you you’d serve!!!” 

“Yes!!!” Olympia yelled back. Her happy excitement was somewhat undercut by the exertion of screaming, as well as the lingering rage. At least it felt like she didn’t have to shout quite as loudly as half a minute ago. She almost certainly had some lasting hearing damage, but at least it seemed she hadn’t gone half-deaf permanently.

Suddenly, Artemis kissed her.

For a moment, Olympia was completely startled. She hadn’t seen that coming at all. Then she leaned into it, and embraced her. It felt so right. This wasn’t them obeying a command like before. This was them, wanting it. It felt almost innocent for a moment, just an expression of relief and kinship. But as the kiss lasted and stretched, she felt something inside her tighten as arousal began to wetly simmer between her legs, and she realized why they wanted this.

She pulled herself back out of the kiss, then leaned back in, embracing Artemis, her head next to hers, like they were in a loud night club. She spoke directly into her ear.

“You mean nothing to me,” she said. She cupped Artemis’s ass with her hand, her fingers pushing firmly into her crack. She felt the smooth curve of her flesh underneath her fingers. She was so hot. So fuckable. So usable. So obedient. 

“You’re just a Triad slave. That’s the only thing that gives you value.”

“I know,” Artemis said. “I’m just like you. Just something you can fuck to prove your loyalty. Something you get to fuck as a reward for good behavior. And you’ve been very good.” 

Olympia’s pussy tightened with arousal. Yes. This wasn’t love or friendship. Olympia simply lusted for the slave in her arms because it was her function to be used. It was her purpose to be fucked, to serve and pleasure those that served the Triad. Artemis was a fucktoy. Artemis needed to be used, wanted to be used.

Just like Olympia.

Artemis pushed her away. Her eyes were cold and hard. She was perfect.

“You’ll get to fuck me later!” she said. “After we’ve destroyed this hundred-million dollar asset of the Resistance!”

“Hail the Dark Triad!” Olympia proclaimed.

”Hail the Dark Triad!” her sister repeated and Olympia went back to work, feeling nothing but cold determination where the rest of her emotions used to be. She kicked Cortéz in the face as hard as she could with the flat of her boot. She felt something break, and he didn’t flinch. This time he seemed to be actually be dead. Satisfied, she placed the second charge on the black box and let Artemis show her how to make sure it was armed. They double-checked it, then stepped around the fresh pool of blood towards aft. 

By the time they had reached the other end of the ship, two decks lower, their hearing had gone from nearly deaf to merely a painful tinnitus. They ripped out the data recorder from behind the second bathroom mirror to the right and Olympia wired it up with Artemis checking.

“If we’d split up, Cortéz would have probably gotten at least one of us,” Olympia said as she checked the cable connection from the radio detonator to the blasting caps.

”Good thing we stayed together, then,” Artemis said, and Olympia had to laugh. It was a harsh, almost mocking sound. It sounded nothing like the bright laugh she used to have. 

”What?” Artemis asked.

“Nothing, just… that sentence just sums this all up quite nicely, don’t you think?” Olympia said with a shrug as she placed the final charge and slung the black bag over her shoulder. 

“Don’t get sentimental,” Artemis scoffed. She turned around, grabbed her empty satchel and made for the boarding skiff.

“Don’t worry, bitch. I’m just having fun,” Olympia said as she followed. “But don’t you enjoy this? Don’t you enjoy seeing me like this? I do. I love seeing you like this. I’m glad we’re in this together. Dark Triad. Slaves.”

“Yes,” Artemis sighed. Her sister was right. She could not deny that. No matter how little she cared about her, no matter how little she felt. “It’s so good!”

“Medusa hasn’t even made you cum yet,” Olympia said, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm. “Oh God, I want to watch her make you cum so badly.” 

”I’m pretty sure we can make that happen if we ask nicely,” she said. “Medusa would probably enjoy using us that way. We’ll see.”

“Yes. We’ll see.”

They climbed the stairs to the starboard deck. Artemis was glad to be done with this ship. Every minute longer spent on it felt like giving the Resistance one more chance to take a breath. She knew this wasn’t the only resource the Resistance had at its disposal. Far from it. There were still many more to eliminate. Bases to raid. Officers to kill or… turn. 

Now that their conversation had died down, she felt her sense of cool and calculated obedience return. It was reassuring to know that no matter how much serving and obeying might rouse her, and no matter how happy and excited she was able to get from being the Dark Triad’s pawn, at her core her mind was still pruned and clipped. Any joy and excitement she felt was simply because she was allowed to. At a command, she would turn into a blunt tool, and she couldn’t wait for the first time it would happen. She would enjoy the memory once she was allowed to.

“One more thing,” Olympia said, interrupting Artemis’s thoughts. She had almost forgotten about her.


“You got a real nice ass.”

Artemis chuckled and suddenly a million things went through her head. Amusement, annoyance, surprise. It had been such a trite statement uttered by her sister. But in that moment, there was a flash of something complex in Artemis. A ghost of what she had been, and for a fleeting moment she felt the warmth and connection and humor that Medusa had taken from her. It felt warm and gratuitous and fuzzy. In that moment, everything that had happened seemed at once momentous and incredibly absurd. Her life had been turned on its head. She had been turned into a Triad Slave. She was less than a person now. She was going to fuck her sister. She was going to kill people she had known as friends. It was terrible and wonderful and incomprehensible and so, so strange. She felt lost and connected and understood and isolated all at once.

The moment passed and her expression smoothed over.

”Thanks,” she said dismissively, and walked through the door to the outer deck where the rest of the Dark Triad were waiting for them.

They joined their masters without looking back.


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